Darcy and Elizabeth: An Undeniable Attraction
by Ginny Stevens
Summary: When Darcy and Elizabeth meet at a ball, a fire ignites within them. As they resist their carnal urges, they also must grasp with the realities of their positions in society. Some things, however, are impossible to deny. Sensual and tension filled, this novella follows their journey of becoming friends and lovers.
1. Chapter 1

Hello. This is my first post here but I've been a lurking reader for years. I love reading and writing JAFF. I write steamy stories, so if if you like your cuppa hot stick around.

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Chapter One

Elizabeth sat up in her bed, gasping for air. She had never had a dream like that before. It appeared to be the local assembly again. This time, however, the tall and proud Mr. Darcy did not insult her. He danced with her, his gaze never leaving her eyes. The touch of his hand caused her to shiver. The lively dancing, a great form of exercise, barely concealed the frantic energy building between them. The tension rose and rose, more akin to the energy found in the final movements at a concert hall than to a public ball. Just before she thought she would suffocate from the excitement building in her, she awoke.

Calming her breath, she shook her head. She felt attraction before. Her attempts to lead her youngest sister Lydia down a path decorum came from knowing first-hand the difficulty of having high animal and lively spirits. Tonight's dream felt far beyond what she had ever known before. It felt primal.

Why should she react that way to Mr. Darcy? He did not speak with her, or nearly anyone at tonight's ball. Instead of dancing with her, he insulted. Yet, her fanciful imagination restructured the evening. His eyes had remained on her for much of the evening. In her dream world, she turned his critical stare into admiration. Nothing could be further from the truth, and she knew it. He could never return her admiration. Even now, her mind screamed no while her body betrayed her.

Taking deep breaths, she waited for her racing pulse to slow. She would simply avoid him during his stay at Netherfield. It should not be difficult, he clearly loathed their society. Reassured of her presence of mind, she attempted to find sleep again while praying for no more dreams.

* * *

Three miles away from Elizabeth Bennet, a gentleman found sleep difficult. Journeying from London earlier in the day in a crowded carriage should have ensured exhaustion. The company included his closest friend, Charles Bingley, and his sisters and brother-in-law. Only an hour into the ride, Darcy questioned his agreement to reside for several weeks at Bingley's leased country house. How had he ever thought he could tolerate the presence of Bingley's younger sister Caroline for so many weeks? She talked incessantly, constantly seeking his approval of her or her thoughts. In such annoyed spirits, Fitzwilliam Darcy entered the small town of Meryton's assembly rooms.

A quick perusal of the crowd assured no one of his acquaintance or of any importance. Consorting with country folk might have put him at more ease than he felt at a London ball, but he soon overheard himself as the topic of discussion. Well known as sedate but rich and honorable in Town, Darcy experienced the attentions of many who only sought to raise themselves up through the acquaintance. He was not, however, the most noteworthy individual in any room. His father had not passed on a title, and while his relations included nobles, others recommended themselves to strangers far better. Finding himself an object of curiosity set him distinctly on edge.

By the time Bingley approached him and insisted he dance, Darcy could no longer hide his foul mood. Angry at his friend for suggesting such an experience for the evening, he flatly refused to dance with any lady but Bingley's sisters. Thus, he surmised, began his troubled mind.

He lied, and deceit always troubled him. She looked more than tolerable. She heard his insult, and he knew it. How could one apologize to a lady for calling her unhandsome? Even now, her eyes haunted him. What had he seen? A fire burnt within those brown eyes. They held disbelief, anger and hurt. But before he insulted her, in the brief second when their eyes first locked, he perceived something else entirely. She listened to their conversation with curiosity. She felt an interest in his words, in attracting his notice. She did not primp or resituate her bountiful assets to gain his agreement to dance. No, her eyes held intelligence in them. She would never stoop to that. Feeling himself pulled to look deeper into her dark eyes, he shook his head and stated his denial. He spent the rest of the evening following her every movement.

How might the evening had gone if he requested her hand for a set? Would her hand have lingered on his? Would he smell her perfume as she moved around him? He could envision her bouncing to the music, her cheeks growing rosy with the exercise. Her breath would quicken. She smiled on the floor with other men. She might have smiled for him as well. Indeed, he could well imagine the torture he would have felt. Savages across the world danced to their gods and so would he have done. He would have laid himself at her altar and prayed to touch heaven itself.

He felt the bed linen over him tug as the effect of his thoughts made itself known. His hand tingled in anticipation, but he would not oblige what his body so clearly wished. Elizabeth Bennet was a gentleman's daughter. He would not think of her when he saw to his needs. No, in the morning, after banishing thoughts of her, he could indulge. He could not dishonor a lady in such a way, however great the temptation. He awoke as frustrated and aroused as the previous night. She tempted him beyond his wildest imagination.

* * *

A week later, Elizabeth entered Netherfield's drawing room; the Bennets had been invited to dinner along with the Lucas family. Mr. Bennet stayed behind, as was his wont. Mr. Bingley noticed only one person. Enthralled by her sister Jane's beauty, he delayed rising at their entrance. Mr. Hurst, likely suffering with gout, struggled to rise. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley nodded their heads, not quite smiling. Clearly they preferred Jane's company. Elizabeth believed them proud and disapproving of Hertfordshire, no matter that their money reportedly came from trade. Mr. Darcy seemed to rise at a normal rate and executed the civility with perfection. She raised her eyebrow at him, surprised he could perform what he must not feel.

As he stood at Miss Elizabeth's entrance, Darcy realized how bitter he must have felt the night of the assembly. Some would say her eldest sister was the beauty of the family, but Miss Elizabeth's eyes enthralled him. Refusing to allow her bewitchment to continue, he focused on her slightly flawed figure as she walked across the room to take a seat.

Fashion preferred tall and lean ladies. He never understood why, with all the emphasis on Greek naturalism, Society wished to deny a lady's natural shape so evident in the sculptured nudes. A generation before and exceedingly large, false hips were the fashion while breasts were hardly featured. He scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all. As a warm blooded male, he would prefer a truly natural shape. Hips like Miss Elizabeth's were ideal for grasping. Still, her gown should not display them, combined with her full bosom it did not create the slender column every other lady desired to attain. Did not the ladies of Hertfordshire care for fashion?

Dinner was called, and Miss Bingley gripped his arm tightly as they entered the dining parlor. Her fingers felt as sharp as a hawk's talons. Bingley had arranged for Miss Bennet to sit near him. Despite Miss Bingley's best intentions, Darcy had the misfortune of sitting near Mrs. Bennet. In an interesting turn of fate, Miss Elizabeth sat on his right. Unnoticed by either, they put their napkins in their laps simultaneously. Their fingers brushed one another's under the table. Both jumped at the contact.

Elizabeth's breath caught. Surely she had touched another man's hand before? Although unexpected, there was nothing shocking about the contact. Why did her heart race?

Darcy attempted to ignore Elizabeth's presence, but his body would not obey. Never before had a simple touch felt so erotic. Behave, he told himself as another portion of his mind wondered how to recreate the effect.

"Miss Elizabeth," Miss Bingley spoke around him, "I have heard you play the pianoforte and sing."

"A little," she replied. "My sister, Mary, is the gifted musician in the family."

Caroline sneered and said coldly, "Oh, yes. I did hear a remark calling her the most accomplished lady in the county."

She glanced at the lady in question and seemed to dismiss her based on her lack of beauty compared to her sisters.

Miss Mary spoke, seemingly unaware of the inspection. "I do not consider myself vain should I say such a report pleases me to hear it. For, vanity relies on what others think of oneself. Pride, however…"

She was interrupted by her mother, calling nearly half way across the table. "Mary, none of the sermonizing, please!" Without moderating her volume to speak to a nearer guest, she resumed speaking. "You see how he dotes on her already, Lady Lucas? I believe we will have Jane wed to Mr. Bingley before Christmas. Indeed, it all works according to my plan!"

Darcy felt the disgust rising in his throat. Miss Bingley made no attempt to hide her disdain.

"You know I wish with all of my heart each of your five girls were well settled. I often consider the anxieties and pain you must suffer from the lack of an heir and the entailment of the estate," Lady Lucas replied.

Darcy's eyes widened at the backhanded words. Perhaps Hertfordshire cared little for beauty and fashion but their cutting ways were just as severe as London.

Mrs. Bennet was silent for a moment, and Elizabeth trembled in fear. Her mother could be so vulgar! "Mama, Charlotte told me she would bring the recipe for the pies you enjoyed at Lucas Lodge last week so we may give them to Cook."

"Oh, yes! I daresay Charlotte could speak with Cook about the specifics, as familiar with the cooking as she is," Mrs. Bennet nodded her head in perceived triumph. She looked about the table, and her eyes landed upon Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth cringed in expectation.

"Mr. Darcy!" her shrill voice rang out and he lifted his eyes from his plate. "Sir William was just telling us of the Militia regiment that is soon to arrive. Should they give a ball, or should Mr. Bingley, I hope, dear sir, to see you dance more than you did at the assembly."

"Indeed!" Sir William cried. "You were quite adept at the science. There is no greater compliment to give a place than dancing! It is the mark of truly refined society."

"And every unrefined society," Darcy spoke with cold civility. "Every savage can dance. I rarely dance, only when I cannot avoid it."

Beside him Elizabeth scoffed. "I did not know there were human hybrids amongst us."

"Excuse me?"

"You first claimed every human dances and yet claim to not enjoy it and to not indulge. Taken in a different light and perhaps it could mean that you found our ball unrefined, but we know even the King himself dances and surely you could not make yourself superior to him. Even the Bible records King David dancing in victory and the Lord being well pleased. Certainly you do not know better than the Almighty. I can only conclude then, sir, that you are, somehow, inhuman." Elizabeth sat back in her chair and took a sip of wine.

Miss Bingley gasped with indignation. "I…I…I believe you mean nonhuman!" She seemed pleased to find Elizabeth in error.

Darcy fumed, but before he could reply, Elizabeth spoke again while looking directly at him. Her dark eyes held a myriad of expressions. "Unless, of course, you profess things you do not mean and merely looked for some astonishing proverb in order to amaze the whole room."

He recognized her challenge, but also her clemency. He nodded his head and gave a half smile. "I do not have the ease as others do, of speaking well to strangers."

"Then you must practice, sir."

Sir William joined in with the story of his first time visiting St. James'. His wife reminded him of pieces he had forgotten to tell. Mrs. Bennet kept them occupied with all things London related for the remainder of the meal. Miss Bingley attempted to speak with him at every turn about the superiority of her position in London society. Despite Elizabeth's manner towards him, he found himself only wishing to engage her more.

Elizabeth's mind was quite divergent. She would be pleased never to speak to him again. She startled when he leaned in to whisper close to her ear, his breath warm on her skin.

"Shall we call a truce now?"

She took a sip of wine before replying lowly, "A truce to what?"

"This battle of wits. I concede the field."

She raised her eyebrow. "Do you admit to firing the first shot?"

He paused. "Your final assessment was quite correct. I had no intention to amaze the whole room, only to force Bingley to leave me alone."

"Ah, so it is shocking that you would say a lady within hearing distance is only tolerable and not worthy of a dance with you?"

"It is shocking that a man could even think it!" His voice rose a bit, and he received a curious glance from Miss Bingley and Miss Lucas, who were otherwise in their conversations.

"I agree! No gentleman would be so unfeeling and inhuman."

Darcy held back a growl at her misunderstanding. He had no opportunity to reply as the meal ended. Afterwards, Elizabeth stayed with her friend Miss Lucas for most of the evening.

Once their guests left, Miss Bingley could not restrain her opinion. "I have never been more bored in my life! Is there no style, no conversation to be had in this place?"

"I found them very agreeable!" Bingley replied. "The eldest Miss Bennets, especially, are lovely and proper."

"I do like Jane Bennet," Miss Bingley agreed.

"She is a sweet girl," said Mrs. Hurst. "Mr. Darcy what do you think of the Bennet ladies? Do they improve upon a second acquaintance? You would not dance with them at the assembly?"

Mr. Hurst lazily interjected, "They are the reputed beauties of the county. Sir William refers to the second one as a jewel. He fancies a match with her for his son, but I am sure if you prefer her you could snatch her up."

Uncomfortable with the inquisition and any possibility of gossip about nonexistent regard he may have for Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy quickly exclaimed, "She a beauty? I would as soon call her mother a wit!"

Bigley looked at him with disappointment in his eyes, and he could only shake his head. The others in the room erupted in laughter and complimented his wit. Before bed that night his self-loathing doubled. Another evening in Elizabeth's presence and another lie passed his lips. Worse, he had the opportunity to make amends and he had not. The absolute worst, however, was the way his hand yearned to brush hers again. To trail his fingers up her soft arms and to her smooth neck. He desired to stroke her silky cheeks and kiss the mouth that alternately spoke such sharp and teasing words to him. She cared so little for his opinion, something he had no experience with, but he wanted that fire that burned in her eyes to burn for him. It could never be in reality, only in the dark moments of his chambers could he indulge in such thoughts. Denying his longing for release, he attempted to read until sleep finally claimed him.

At Longbourn Jane and Elizabeth conversed before bed.

"He is everything a gentleman ought to be!" Jane exclaimed in reference of Mr. Bingley.

"You said that the other day. Do you know anything more about him or feel anything differently upon a second meeting?"

Jane blushed, and Elizabeth laughed. "We are such opposites. You feel greater attachment to a person at each meeting. For me, the charm of a new acquaintance slips a little away with each meeting. This is why I will be an old maid."

"You will not! Someday someone will catch your eye," Jane spoke through a great yawn.

As Elizabeth blew out the candle, she regretted that she had to admit to herself someone already caught her eye. With his arrogance, however, he could never touch her heart. She decided there was no harm in reliving the jolt she felt as his hand brushed hers.

* * *

"Elizabeth, do you not hear me, child? I said go and fetch your father," Mrs. Bennet commanded. Elizabeth jumped at the strident tone. She had been sitting in Longbourn's parlor and staring out the window. The Netherfield party was expected any moment and, curiously, Elizabeth found she looked forward to the evening. She needed to sketch Mr. Darcy's character. Her attraction had nothing to do with it. Tearing her mind from images of his broad shoulders and muscular physique, she left the room for the library.

"Papa, they will arrive any moment. Mama requests your presence." She spoke to where she knew he sat in the back of the dark room. No amount of light could help.

"What use am I?"

"You are our father. We love you," she replied.

"I am nothing anymore!" He cried in rage, flinging his arm to the side and sending a tray clattering to the ground.

Elizabeth felt no fear. Her father's eyesight had been failing for years and in the last few months all but vanished. His books, more beloved to him than his family, were of no use to him any longer.

"You know that is not true." Hearing the sounds of visitors arriving, she walked to his side and helped him stand. "Come, Papa."

"I can do it on my own!" He growled at her.

He grabbed his cane that allowed him to test for things in his path. She knew he also mentally counted the steps to the parlor. Sighing, she stooped to pick up the tray before leaving to return to the parlor.

She exited the dark room and momentarily was blinded by the light from the hallway. Blinking through it, she took another step and collided with a tall, strong form.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Mr. Darcy gasped out. His easily caught her before she fell. "Are you well?"

Discombobulated from the alarm and his presence, she could only nod her head.

He peered into her eyes. "You are certain?"

"Yes," she found her voice at last. "I apologize I could not see because of the light."

"Yes, I am surprised to see you leaving a dark library."

"How did you know it was a library?"

A small smile formed on his lips. "What other room would smell like musty books?"

Elizabeth returned his smile. He reached his hand toward her face, and she felt she could not breathe. Gently he brushed away a curl and then rubbed her temple for a moment. Surely she imagined the entire encounter, especially when his head came closer to hers.

"There, I believe I got it all."

Dazed, Elizabeth questioned, "All?"

"There was a splatter of tea, I believe, here by your eyes."

He continued to look intently at her. Belatedly, she realized his hand still held her waist.

"Oh, thank you." Shaking her head to clear her thoughts she added, "We ought to continue to the parlor."

He slowly took his hand off her waist, it gently trailed down the side of one hip, causing her to shiver.

"After you," he replied. His voice was measurably deeper than it had been.

Confused by the entire encounter, and alarmed at her reaction, she slowly led him to the parlor.

Darcy paused a moment before following, willing his member to behave. Turning to follow he watched as her body moved down the hallway believing her figure may be the death of him.

Upon entering the parlor, Darcy was introduced to Mr. Bennet. He had not been at the assembly or when the family called on Netherfield. Darcy had thought it irregular, but Bingley excused it away. Watching the gentleman now, Darcy perceived something peculiar about him. Each time one Mrs. Bennet or one of the younger daughters began speaking too loudly, Mr. Bennet winced. Darcy understood the sentiment, their voices were shrill and annoying, but only a man with very acute hearing would react as strongly as Mr. Bennet. Darcy also watched Elizabeth, who frequently glanced at her father with a worried expression. When the tea was served, and Darcy saw how Mr. Bennet handled it, he knew for certain what afflicted the man.

As he had supposed would be the case, Mr. Bennet lingered in the parlor and was the last to arrive at the table when dinner was called. Unsurprisingly, Elizabeth sat on one of Mr. Bennet's sides. Smiling at the memories of their last dinner, Darcy harbored high hopes for this evening. As before, Darcy and Elizabeth's hands grazed each other under the table. Again, he noted Elizabeth's shiver. He could not capture her attention as before though. She focused on anticipating her father's needs.

The family did well at hiding it, Bingley and his family did not seem to notice, but Darcy recognized Mr. Bennet's impaired vision from spending time with his aging tutor. As was the case with his tutor, he engaged Mr. Bennet in the conversation of philosophy. Elizabeth joining them and having opinions of merit shocked and pleased him.

At last, dinner concluded, and Darcy realized he had not even cared if Mrs. Bennet and the younger daughters were too rambunctious. Miss Bingley had been seated far away from him, and he was free to enjoy the conversation of Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth.

"Lizzy," Mr. Bennet said as they were rising, "go to my library and retrieve my copy of Augustine. When the gentlemen return to the parlor, you may prove Mr. Darcy wrong from the source!"

Elizabeth smiled first at her father and then Darcy. "My pleasure!"

The gentlemen remained in the dining room drinking their port and smoking cigars. They had been speaking of the war when Bingley and Mr. Hurst began discussing a trading venture they took part in. Mr. Bennet leaned forward to Darcy. "Now that I think about it, I believe the book is on the highest shelf and Lizzy may need help reaching it. I would go myself, but I perceive you already know of my handicap. What set you off?"

"I did not go away to school. I saw my tutor's eyesight diminish. After completing Cambridge, before taking over my estate duties, I spent a long holiday with my tutor, by then retired. He could no longer read the words, but he still argued with me profusely on all things philosophical."

"Indeed!"

"I will go retrieve the book, sir, and we can finish our discussion in the parlor."

Mr. Bennet gave Darcy a smile that reached his eyes. He left for the library and found it still nearly dark. A small lamp was lit, and Elizabeth held a candle in her hand as she precariously stood on an ancient stool. He approached her.

"May I be of assistance?"

He had not meant to startle her, and she nearly toppled from her perch. His hands steadied her hips.

"Mr. Darcy! Did you mean to scare me?" She asked with her heart still racing and short of breath.

"Do I frighten you?" At her current level, he only leaned forward a bit to speak in her ear.

She turned her head a little, in an attempt to look at him. His eyes darted to her throat, desiring to taste it.

"Why should I be frightened of a strange gentleman approaching me in the dark in my father's house?" She nearly added that he should be afraid of her if he knew her mother. She would construe this position as a reason for marriage, and the whole thing would be tied up in a fortnight.

"So, I have returned to a gentleman?" Darcy's hands still held her hips and although he told his body to step back, it had not obeyed. Now his hands squeezed them, just a bit.

Elizabeth's breath hitched. She ought to tell him to release her, but his touch brought tingles all over her body. Still, she could tease. "I thought you quit the field admirably the other night."

"If you recall, I could not answer before the meal finished."

"So the mighty Mr. Darcy, who can reply quickly in the bustle of an assembly, requires additional time to think clearly at a dinner?"

Leaning in closer, his breath tickled her ear. "Perhaps the company contributed to my inability to think clearly."

Elizabeth stiffened. Of course, the behavior of her family affronted him. "Why are you here, Mr. Darcy?" She coldly asked.

Confused by her tone, he stepped back and released her hips at last. "Your father suggest I help find the book as it may be too high for you to reach. May I?" He held out his hand for her to grasp. His body already anticipated the touch of her skin.

"Thank you," she muttered before lightly putting her small hand in his. She was fast becoming addicted to the sensation it evoked.

They stood still looking into each other's eyes for a moment. Elizabeth broke the spell. "I believe you will need the light." She handed the candle to him, allowing another graze of hands.

Mustering all of his strength, Darcy turned to look at the books. The frequent touches and flirting wore his patience thin. He desired so much more. Careful to never be in such a position with other ladies, he found he had little resistance to Elizabeth's charms. He knew his danger, but she challenged him, and he always rose to the occasion.

Finding the book, he turned to her. "Now, I believe your father has ordered a debate." Elizabeth beamed, and Darcy returned the smile.

Later, as the guests took their leave, Darcy turned to Mr. Bennet. "You will understand me when I say I miss reading with my tutor. He insisted I practice my oral abilities."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, understanding immediately Mr. Darcy knew her father's secret and offered to read aloud to him.

"You are welcome any time you wish the company of an old man with too many books, sir," Mr. Bennet replied.

"It will be an honor." Darcy met Elizabeth's eyes and smiled.

As she looked into his soft brown eyes, she saw the usual burn replaced by something else: a kind gentleness. Her attraction to him always made her heart race, now she felt a slow burn build within. He was a man worthy of her esteem.

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Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

I'm glad to see so many enjoyed the first chapter. It's getting steamy fast here!

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

"Where are we dining tonight, Charles?" Miss Bingley asked.

"Mrs. Long's."

Miss Bingley scoffed. "Who is invited?"

"The Lucases and Bennets for certain. I do not know who else."

"I shall be delighted to see Miss Bennet again," Mrs. Hurst replied.

"The whole family is an agreeable lot!" Bingley exclaimed.

"Whatever can you mean?" Miss Bingley gasped. "Mr. Darcy can you understand him?"

Rolling his eyes, he replied. "Your brother finds them pleasing company."

She came close to him and leaned down a little, in an effort to show off her disappointing décolletage. "Do you find them pleasing company? I was rather certain you loathed all of them."

"Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth especially are very lovely and well-mannered," Bingley observed.

Disliking Bingley's professed admiration for Elizabeth, Darcy brushed it aside. "I cannot loathe what I do not know or understand. I enjoyed the evening at their home."

"Yes, you spent all your time with Mr. Bennet and Miss Eliza!"

"Mr. Bennet, Miss Elizabeth," he stressed her name, "and I conversed about philosophy: Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and Augustine. If it pleases you, I am certain they would welcome your observations." Miss Bingley sniffed as a reply before exclaiming over her sister's new bracelet, which she had been playing with.

Finally, they departed for the dinner. Ensuring he was the last to leave the carriage, as a means to avoid escorting Miss Bingley, Darcy paused a moment to calm his nerves. He hid it well earlier, but Elizabeth Bennet hounded his every waking and sleeping thought. The moments just before falling asleep and just after waking were the acutest forms of torture for a well-regulated man. He shook his head in an attempt to discard her bewitchment.

Inside the Long residence, Elizabeth awaited the arrival of the Netherfield party with scarcely less anxiety. They dined at Longbourn three days ago, and Darcy had yet to call on her father. She understood as they were new to the area many of the other residents were eager to host them. Alone at night, she allowed herself to relive the feelings of ecstasy his touch brought. She imagined his hands upon her hips and waist again, traveling up and down her body. Sometimes firm and sometimes soft, with the barest of grazes. She could hardly bear the tension she felt. Closing her eyes to still her thoughts, she took a deep breath. She heard the arrival of Mr. and Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. Mr. Darcy was likely just silent at the moment. Allowing herself an extra second to order her mind, she finally opened her eyes, just as Darcy walked in the room. Their eyes immediately locked. She recognized the burning intensity in them again. She never knew eyes could hold so many moods.

She expected him to come to her, but he did not. Instead, he stood on the outside of her conversations. Her sole interaction with him was when they were all taking their leave. Her shawl and slipped off her shoulder, and he righted it. His ungloved hand grazed the skin of her neck and shoulder. That night, after Jane fell asleep, she allowed her hand to replace his in her fantasies.

Three more days passed before Darcy and Elizabeth were to see each other again. He had called twice on Mr. Bennet, but both times Elizabeth had been out on a walk. The second time, upon leaving, Darcy saw Elizabeth returning. The sun shone through the muslin of her gown, highlighting her legs. A sister awaited her, so he could not remain. A shared smile was all that passed between them.

Now, his fevered dreams included images of her legs wrapped around him, the feel of her soft skin moving beneath him, her smile beguiling him and her brown eyes holding desire, mischievousness, and pleasure. His day time thoughts, however, dwelled on her intelligence, wit and the compassion she showed her father. He had never known a lady that stirred both his heart and body in such a way. Uncertain of his feelings, or their reasonableness, he concluded while he may have been tempted to dismiss any future with her simply because of her lack of standing and income, he treasured conversations with her and her father more than any London Society lady could offer.

As he had at their last meeting, Darcy stood near her as she laughingly conversed with others. As the newly arrived Militia Colonel left her side, she turned her eyes upon him and walked nearer. "I believe I expressed myself with very well when I teased the Colonel about hosting a ball. Do you agree?"

He smiled. He hoped the Colonel would host one soon. He wanted every set for himself. "With great energy, but it is a subject that always animates ladies." Her eyes flamed, and Darcy gave a half smile.

"You think all we care about is dancing and lace?"

Before he could reply, Miss Lucas insisted Elizabeth perform for the assembled group. What she lacked in true skill she made up for with a spirit and tone Darcy seldom heard. It did not suit great concert halls, but it was perfect for an evening at home. Then, in his heart, he knew the truth.

Elizabeth finished her song and allowed her sister Mary to play. After one song, the others requested music for dancing. Crossing the room with the intention of requesting her mother admonish her younger sisters, she was stopped by Sir William Lucas.

"Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present to you a most excellent partner."

He took her hand and was about to give it to Mr. Darcy when she snatched it back. She could not bear another touch from him. This attraction she felt must cease. "I have no intention of dancing. Please do not suppose I came this way to beg for a partner."

Darcy interjected, "Miss Elizabeth, I would be very honored to dance with you."

She looked into his eyes, searching for some measure of the truth. Instead, she recalled his words the last time one attempted to make him dance and remained firm.

"You dance so well!" Sir William continued. "Mr. Darcy dislikes dancing in general, but I am certain he would oblige us for one half hour."

"Mr. Darcy is all politeness," was her only answer. As she turned to leave, she heard him call out.

"Nay, it is not politeness, but, rather, a very tempting offer."

Slowly, she turned. He found her tempting enough for a dance now? "Even if the lady has no other partners, seemingly slighted by other men?"

Sir William had walked away, and Darcy stepped closer. Speaking lowly he said, "Foolish men."

She arched her brow. "On the contrary, I have it on good authority at least one of the gentlemen who have slighted me thinks very highly of himself."

Darcy recognized her admonishment. "He's a proud, arrogant, haughty and foolish man then. Perhaps he would think better of it and dance with you."

"I believe also he only dances with ladies whom he knows well."

Darcy could not bite back his roguish smile. Due to his constant thoughts, he felt he knew her very well. "Not as well as he might after a dance."

"And I thought you wanted a truce, Mr. Darcy."

"No, now come." He took her hand and led her to the floor.

They did not speak during their dance. Instead, it felt like Elizabeth's dream of the assembly. The tension built within her until she thought she might pass out if she did not seek relief.

"Miss Elizabeth, do you require fresh air?" Darcy whispered in her ear as the dance concluded. She could only nod her head.

He escorted her to the terrace and the cold air finally shocked some sense into her. "Here," he said as he draped his coat over her. His scent enveloped her and turned to see him in only shirtsleeves, and a waist coat made her dizzy again.

"Come, sit on the bench. Shall I fetch you some refreshment?" He led her around the corner to a bench.

"No, I am well."

The bench was narrow, and as he sat next to her their legs touched. Her body hummed with need.

For his part, Darcy felt a mixture of desire and concern. "I think I ought to you retrieve some wine for you. Or perhaps your mother?"

Elizabeth laughed. "No, no, certainly not my mother. I am only a little dizzy. If you would sit and talk with me, I think it would help."

"Very well, what do you wish to hear?"

"Your powers of conversation are that bad?"

Darcy stifled a groan. At the moment, his lips wanted to wander down her throat and across the top of her bosom exposed in her gown before slowly returning to her mouth.

She smiled at him, and he leaned in a little closer. "I had been surprised to miss you when you called on my father."

"You were?" He did not know why the thought surprised him. He had always assumed everyone liked him and wished for his company.

"Yes, my father is the only one I can speak to about books and he grows depressed about his infirmity."

She bowed her head and Darcy perceived she hid tears. Tilting her chin up, he saw unshed tears glistening in her eyes. Tenderly, he wiped the few released ones. "Elizabeth," he whispered before gently brushing her lips.

She moaned at the contact and Darcy lost all restraint. He kissed her lips with increasing firmness and then allowed them to wander across her face and jaw. Her arms wrapped around his neck. When he trailed kisses down her throat, she tangled his hair in her hands. His own wrapped around her slim waist. One arm clutched her closely, and the other travelled up and down her side. He drew a circle on the side of one hip before ascending and grazing a breast. She inhaled sharply and pushed herself further into his embrace. His head bent lower, and he slipped his tongue between the valley of her breasts. She clutched his head to her chest.

"Yes, like that," she said. Elizabeth moaned incoherently as she encouraged Darcy to touch her as she had dreamed. One hand of his now rubbed up and down her thigh, and she squirmed with desire. Craving his lips on hers, and needing to show him what she needed she climbed onto his lap and straddled him.

"Elizabeth!" he whispered harshly before she kissed him hard.

She felt his arousal underneath her, and she pressed against it. He jumped and then kissed her with renewed energy. Leading one hand that grasped her waist up to her breast, she showed him to pinch her nipple. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, but her soft whimper seemed to encourage him. He molded his hand over the shape before allowing his other hand to seek the remaining breast.

Gasping, his lips left hers and went down her neck. Near the base, she felt a fission of pleasure and ground her pelvis onto his lap more. With one hand on her breast, his other was already lifting up her skirt. His hand stopped at her upper thigh and this thumb just gently grazed the curls there. Elizabeth arched her neck back to give him greater access as he sucked on her and then nudged his hand to her core, giving him permission.

"Higher," she panted and met his eyes as she pressed her finger to the special spot in her core. She had never felt so wet before. Darcy groaned as his finger replaced hers, his hips driving up. He teased her nipple one more time and savagely kissed her lips then she felt her muscles clench. Colors flooded her mind and for a moment she only heard a faint buzzing sound as her whole body tensed and then relaxed.

Having never taken a lover before, Elizabeth's reaction was well beyond his expectation. Still, he knew he gave her the pleasure he often heard men at his club speak of. Feeling her wetness on his finger awakened an uncontrollable need to drive his shaft into her. There was no time to unbutton his breeches before he spent in in them. Her essence was on top of the fabric and his underneath, and he had never detested clothing more than when he realized the barrier it created between them.

Elizabeth lay limply on his lap, her arms resting on his shoulder, her head over his heart. After a few moments, his breath returned to normal, and he realized what transpired.

"Oh, God. God, Elizabeth," he said over and over again. First in elation and then in horror as reality settled.

"I'm sorry," she said replied. "How you must hate me!"

"No, never!" he took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. "That was more pleasure than I have ever known."

"Really?"

"Yes, it was a gift I'll always treasure."

"Lizzy?" Miss Bennet called from the door way.

"Oh, God!" Elizabeth whispered as she slid off Darcy's lap and patted her hair and dress. "Can you tell?"

He looked up at the full moon. "You went on a stroll and lost your way. You could not walk easily in your gown." He hoped the excuse of her gathering it up would be enough to explain the wrinkles.

She nervously nodded her head as her sister called her again. "Go," he said as he squeezed her hand.

On wobbly legs, Elizabeth continued to Jane.

"Lizzy! What happened to you?"

"I was overheated, so I went for a walk."

"In the dark?"

"I admit it was not wise. I lost my way and stumbled many times."

Jane perused Elizabeth's gown and body. "We shall get you home. Go through the side corridor and I will gather Mama and our sisters."

"Thank you, Jane." Elizabeth's heart pounded from the lies and fear of discovery. Jane turned to leave and then asked, "Have you seen Mr. Darcy? Mr. Bingley could not find him, and we last saw him dance with you."

"Oh," Elizabeth stammered, her heart rate increasing again. "Oh, he felt ill after sampling the punch, he said. I believe he left already." Her face flushed, but Jane nodded her head and returned indoors. Elizabeth walked around the corner to look at the bench but saw Darcy was gone. She quickly made her way inside.

Darcy ran to the stable, happy to see his carriage ready. Graves knew he hated waiting. After ordering the carriage to Netherfield, it would return for the others later, he sat in disbelief. His breeches were stiffening from Elizabeth's wetness, and her scent hung on him. He raised his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply. As he felt a different kind of stiffness in his breeches, he acknowledged Elizabeth Bennet must be put on the earth simply to torment him. And he wanted it to continue for the rest of his life.

* * *

The next morning a letter from Miss Bingley for Jane arrived at breakfast, inviting her to Netherfield for the day. Despite Elizabeth's objections, her mother arranged for Jane to travel by a horse when it threatened rain. Elizabeth worried for her sister's health when the rain began soon after Jane left. She had also never hated Caroline Bingley more than when she excluded her from the invitation. Her rational side knew that there was an increasingly mutual dislike between her and Miss Bingley, and she would not enjoy an entire day in her presence. She admitted to herself; she was anxious to see Darcy again. She could not sleep after their interlude. While she expected she might feel shame at their actions, she had outright pleaded for his touch and exposed her wanton experience of touching herself, she felt none. He insisted she not regret it, and a part of her knew that she would not disregard propriety so easily for any other man.

She began to think it perfectly reasonable. They each knew each other's faults and had instantly seen them. He had every right to think lowly of her position in society, and yet, their love would conquer it. Indeed, she esteemed and trusted him in a way she felt for no other man. She certainly desired him. She also felt concern for his welfare. It made so little sense, but neither did her love for her family who frequently seemed indifferent to her and were unreliable for affection and calmness of mind. She could deny it no longer, she loved Mr. Darcy.

At Netherfield, Darcy heard the news of Miss Bennet's expected arrival with frustration. Miss Bingley had only been slightly more attentive to the elder Miss Bennet than to Elizabeth and to exclude her from the invitation was certainly rude. Additionally, he desired to see Elizabeth again. If nothing else, so little was settled between them. He had written to his solicitor and also the butler at Pemberley to begin marriage proceedings. Now, he merely awaited the betrothal ring that adorned every Darcy bride for a century. He could expect it in less than a week's time. In the meantime, he hoped to see Elizabeth soon.

He could not call on Mr. Bennet today, as the gentlemen had been invited to dine with the officers. It began to rain not long after they arrived, curtailing the visit. He hoped it would not mean he could not visit Longbourn on the morrow. Upon arriving at Netherfield, it greatly surprised him to hear that Jane Bennet not only faced the poor weather but arrived by horse and was now ill and abed. Despite Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst's protestations that Miss Bennet was not very ill, he inquired after her health with the maid who sat with her. Hearing Elizabeth's sister suffered from exhaustion, a headache, fever and sore throat, he insisted Bingley call the apothecary. He noted to himself if she did not soon improve he would send for his physician from London.

* * *

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Elizabeth awoke, anxious to hear news of Jane, who fell ill and did not return to Longbourn the previous day. Instead of learning Jane had recovered, as she hoped, she read she worsened. Immediately upon finishing reading her sister's note she begged leave to attend her at Netherfield. She had not thought of Darcy during her request but in the subsequent three miles of her journey she wondered if the desire to see him did not affect her decision. She scolded herself, first she must see to Jane.

Darcy walked the grounds warring with himself. He truly believed Miss Bennet required a physician, he would do no less for his sister. Still, he had no connection to the family, yet, and was not her host. Pressing Bingley to call his physician might bring expectations from the Bennet household. Would it be officious of him to call the physician in any case? He laughed to himself, he likely would not have doubted his first instinct if not for Elizabeth's chiding his arrogance.

Rounding the corner, within twenty yards of him, stood Elizabeth. She lifted her gown to climb a stile, and he ran to her side. "Elizabeth!"

His heart leapt when she jerked her head up and gave him a brilliant smile. Reaching her side, he offered his hand to help her over the stile, wishing it was time to offer it forever, but he would wait for the Darcy ring.

"Mr. Darcy," she said and then blushed when their hands touched. "Do you know how my sister is this morning?"

He frowned. "I fear she suffers more than she claims. I wondered if she may need a physician."

"A physician!" Elizabeth could scarcely imagine her sister so ill as to need one.

"I have seen illnesses turn very quickly." He looked at Elizabeth with her hand on his arm as they walked up the path. "It is no less than I would do for my sister."

Elizabeth smiled and blushed, hearing a weight to his words that perhaps he did not mean.

"Thank you for your concern," she said sincerely. "I owe you an apology. Convinced of your haughtiness, I wished only to pain you with every word I spoke. You have shown your superior character by tolerating my impertinence and caring for my family."

Darcy knew many had thought him proud before. He had long said that pride could be well contained with a superior mind. But nothing in the world could contain how he felt with pleasing Elizabeth Bennet. Thoughts of her being pleased with his character naturally turned to remembrances of her being pleased by his actions the night before.

Elizabeth began to pull her hand from his arm. "I am sorry, I misspoke. I should never have said a thing."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I appear to have offended you."

"No, my mind was much more agreeably engaged."

"On what, sir?"

He ceased walking and lifted her hand to his lips. "On the treasures of last night."

Elizabeth blushed scarlet. "You still do not hate me for it?"

"Hate you! Why should I?"

"With a mother like mine and your standing in Society, I thought you would fear I intended to entrap you. I have seen how Miss Bingley desires to gain your affections."

"There is no need to entrap the bewitched."

"Truly?" She could scarce believe it.

Darcy gazed down at Elizabeth. Her cheeks were rosy from her walk, causing her lips to look lusciously pink as well. Why speak when he could kiss? Pulling her a little off the path and into a copse of trees he pulled her into his arms without a word.

She held him tightly again. He lifted her in his arms and her legs naturally wrapped around his waist. He used the tree behind her to help support her as his hand massaged a breast. Elizabeth's moans intoxicated him, and soon she whimpered in need. He gleefully supplied. His hand ran up one stocking to her smooth skin and soon to the pearl she showed him the night before. Her kisses became savage, sucking his tongue. He changed the pace by nipping at her lip, and she tugged on his hair before returning the favor.

Elizabeth marveled at Darcy's hands. So strong and large yet clever and nimble. First on her breast and teasing her nipples, then to her core. He did not relent until she came. He swallowed her cries of ecstasy then drove his hips into her, still clothed.

"Show me how to please you!" She demanded.

"There is only one way that will satisfy me and it is not time."

She squirmed against his arousal. "There must be some way to alleviate you."

"No, it is not for women to do."

"I will not be in your debt twice." She gave into her craving to touch his breeches, and he groaned. Realizing that his own parts would very well be as sensitive as hers, she continued to stroke, then nervously undid a fall of his breeches.

Darcy shoved her hands away and quickly undid the rest. For the first time in her life, Elizabeth saw the erect male member. Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth dropped open. "So much bigger than the statues," she murmured. Darcy let out a small laugh and then placed her hand around his shaft, showing her how to stroke. The rhythm was familiar to her, but she marveled at the silky texture and the glistening fluid that emerged. In only a moment or two, Darcy began to tense. His face looked pained, but he told her how good it felt. He pulled out his handkerchief just before releasing his seed. Then he leaned his head against the tree for support.

"Good Lord, Elizabeth." He bent to give her another kiss, and she smiled.

"That felt good?"

"Amazing."

She giggled. "It only seemed fair after my amazing reaction to you."

He smiled a sleepy and sloppy grin. In the distance, there was the sound of thunder. "It's the last thing in the world I want to say at the moment, but I think it best we quickly return to Netherfield and see to your sister."

She nodded her head and took his offered arm. They were silent for many moments until the house came into view. "Elizabeth, it is selfish of me to ask since you are here to tend your sister, but should you be invited to stay I would wish to spend time alone with you somehow. You have already mentioned Miss Bingley's attachment to me, so our public interactions will likely be few and possibly unpleasant."

"If you come to my room, I will let you in, Mr. Darcy."

He stroked his thumb over her hand. "I would cherish hearing my name, Fitzwilliam, from your lips."

She gave him a small smile. "I do hope you will come to me, Fitzwilliam." She reached the steps to the house and scampered up them leaving Darcy scheming on how to visit Elizabeth without harming her reputation.

* * *

Elizabeth found Jane shockingly ill. She truly disliked the notion of leaving Jane's side. Seeing how Jane looked anxious at Elizabeth leaving, Caroline was moved to compassion and suggested Elizabeth stay. She readily agreed. At dinner time, Elizabeth believed she must leave Jane's side.

Sitting across from Elizabeth, Darcy searched her face for signs of her concern for Jane. They had known each other only a fortnight, but he knew her general demeanor in company. Elizabeth did not reply to Miss Bingley with the usual liveliness. She did not argue with Mr. Hurst when he called her taste in plainer dishes singular, although such a debate would be a waste of her energy. After the meal, she went back to Jane and returned only to explain that she seemed quite a bit worse.

"Bingley, perhaps we ought to send a physician. London is near enough; my physician would make the journey."

Elizabeth replied uneasily. "I do not know such a step is necessary. If she worsens through the night, I will accept your offer. Might my mother call and see Jane tomorrow?"

Darcy momentarily frowned. He disliked the idea of Mrs. Bennet at Netherfield during what he began to feel was to be his time alone with her.

Elizabeth saw his reaction, and it confused her. She could not spend time worrying about it, however, and returned to Jane. At supper time, Jane finally rested and Elizabeth decided to join her hosts again shortly before bed. She found them playing cards and rejected the invitation to join them. Instead, she picked up a book.

"Elizabeth Bennet finds no pleasure in playing cards. She is a great reader," Miss Bingley said. There was no masking the disdain in her voice.

"I fear I am not," Elizabeth replied. "I deserve neither the praise nor the censure. I find enjoyment in a great many things."

She sighed to herself. She knew enough of London to know that Miss Bingley was considered fashionable. Did she truly wish to spend her life surrounded by such women? She would have to ask Darcy if he preferred town over his estate. Mr. Bingley made an offhand remark about accomplished ladies that brought on a debate over the definition. In the end, Elizabeth smiled to herself. Darcy did not want to contradict Miss Bingley entirely, he was too civil for that, but he gave her the final point of being his idea of accomplished as he nodded to the book in her hand and suggested a lady 'improve her mind by extensive reading.' She also saw him hide his smile when Elizabeth got Miss Bingley to contradict herself. Earlier she had claimed to know very few women who were accomplished and after Elizabeth wondering if Darcy knew a single one Miss Bingley replied that she knew many. All in all, it was an amusing evening.

If they must be surrounded by people they did not care for, at least they could have their private jokes. It shocked her how permanently attached she felt to Darcy. She envisioned a future with him and looked to this time as a possible model for how their evenings when they had company, might pass.

Before too much longer she excused herself to check on Jane. As she said goodnight to the rest of the room, she tried not to blush as Darcy bid her sleep well. Jane still slept, and she returned to her own room. An hour later she heard the rest of the house go to their chambers. She waited for Darcy to knock and finally gave up when she heard the clock strike two. Had he changed his mind? Too wearied from the day and her long walk to Netherfield, she gave up caring. Exhaustion claimed her. Once again, Darcy invaded her dreams. As she felt his kiss on her neck and his arms envelop her, she sighed.

Darcy fidgeted in his room. What he planned was a point of no return. Should anyone discover he entered Elizabeth's room, her reputation would be ruined. The fact that he already intended to marry her would matter not. As it was, there would still likely be rumors that she seduced him. A roguish grin crossed his face. If they were accused of the act, they might as well enjoy the pleasures of it. But not until they were properly betrothed with her father's consent. Although, truthfully he knew he would try to resist his urges even then. He had known too many to perish suddenly to put Elizabeth in such a position. Betrothed meant nothing when a babe was on the way, and the father deceased.

At last he deemed enough time had passed for him to go to Elizabeth's room undetected. He found her asleep and could not bear to wake her. Instead, he slipped in next to her and cuddled her close to him. "Goodnight, my love," he said to her as he kissed her neck. A contentment he had never known enveloped him. This was as life was meant to be. This woman in his arms. God help him, he would do anything to ensure it remain so. For the first time in a fortnight, he fell asleep without considering what Society might say.

Elizabeth woke up when her attempts at rolling over were unsuccessful. She felt a weight on her waist and then realized a hand held her breast. She felt no alarm; she knew the feel of his arms and his scent already. Fitzwilliam had come to her. She could tell by the early light entering her room he must soon leave.

"Fitzwilliam?" she called softly, but he did not respond. She stroked his arm and the long, lean fingers which covered her breast. "Fitzwilliam, darling, you must wake."

She felt him begin to stir. His hand squeezed her breast and teased her nipple. The arm her head rested on bent to stroke her hair. She felt his breathing increase and he kissed her neck. Unable to bear it any longer she rolled over and kissed him deeply. He pulled back with a surprised look on his face.

"This is not a dream!"

"I hope that does not mean you wandered in here while asleep," she said impishly.

"Oh, no. I was well awake and in my right mind when I entered your room. But waking with you in my arms has filled my dreams for a fortnight." He kissed her again.

"You thought of me so early as that?" she said breathlessly.

"Your eyes captured me immediately. Something attracted me; I could not put you out of my mind."

"Hmmm...Not handsome enough to tempt you but irresistibly attractive?" She raised an eyebrow even as she thought she rather liked the irony.

Darcy looked her directly in the eye. "I was tempted, for much more than a dance. I lied, and I knew you heard, at the time I cared only for my composure." He sighed in disgust of himself and pulled back. "Do you see how terrible I am?"

"Shh," she said as she stroked his face. "It was unkind, but we have all said thoughtless remarks. I was not any kinder in response. I laughed at you then and scorned you the next day."

"I was so annoyed by my attraction when next I saw you I looked only to find fault."

"And what did you find?"

"A figure that gave me no peace of mind."

"My figure is a fault?" She did not believe he truly thought that but after years of hearing of Jane's beauty it hurt to hear.

"Only because fashion says ladies should be like columns and have no shape. I adore your figure," he said as he trailed his hand from her breast to her hip.

"Any spot, in particular, which gained your especial criticism? I know I am too short and not lean enough."

Darcy cupped her cheek with his free hand. "No, love. You are perfect for me. Feel how we suit each other, how well you nestle here in my arms? Your bosom is larger than most so the style of most gowns, made to enhance them, does not sit well on you. Your hips too, perfect for my enjoyment and grasping in passion, do not suit the narrow designs of today's fashion. A superior seamstress would know to display these assets to their advantage."

She blushed at his words. "We often remake Jane's gowns. As the eldest, she gets first choice of gowns and the latest fashions. She hates the fuss, but my mother insists on presenting her in the best we can afford from Meryton. As the gowns are not terribly worn, we remake them for the rest of us as often as we can. But how do you know so much about gowns?"

"I have a much younger sister and our mother died at her birth."

"Have you no female relation to care for her?"

"None whom I trust," he shuddered as he thought of his dear sister in the care of either of his aunts. "My father left her in the custody of my cousin, the younger son of my uncle the Earl."

"Your uncle is an earl?" The fact that his father had passed over the earl and arranged for his daughter to be cared for by young men instead did not inspire confidence in the peer.

"Yes, the Earl of Blesto."

Elizabeth raised her brow.

"You have heard of him then. I am not like him," Darcy assured Elizabeth. He paused a moment and frowned. "I have failed as my sister's guardian, but it likely would have been so much worse if he or my mother's sister cared for her."

"I cannot speak about your family's failings, but I do doubt you have wronged your sister in any way."

A look of anguish and loathing overtook his face. "She nearly eloped last summer. A young man connected with our family whom she knew from her youth attempted to seduce her." Elizabeth gasped, but he continued. "I knew what he was, but I never thought to warn her. I did not think she would have cause to meet with him. I did not perceive he would take his dispute with me so far."

"What would he gain?"

"My sister's fortune is thirty thousand pounds," he said quietly.

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open. She would receive only one thousand pounds upon her mother's death. The differences in their position and wealth astounded her. "He cared nothing for her?"

"Georgiana was on holiday and I arrived unexpectedly. She shared her plans with me. I wrote the man immediately, and he never replied, soon we heard he had fled the area. My sister was heartbroken."

"How terrible for her but you cannot blame yourself. Surely she ought to have known better."

Darcy shook his head. "Perhaps, but she was very young, barely fifteen."

Elizabeth considered how Lydia, who was the same age, would act, or even herself when she was younger. "It was a hard lesson; I am sure. But she is getting over the most trying age."

"Yes, she admits she was a foolish romantic to consider one so beneath her."

Unable to bear the sadness on Darcy's face, Elizabeth ran her hands over it before kissing him. He returned the exchange with vigor. His lips soon left hers and soon he untied the ribbon of her gown, exposing her breasts. He kissed one as his hand enveloped the other. When he took as much of her breast as he could in her mouth and sucked, Elizabeth thought she would pass out from the pleasure. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, and the tingling in her core returned. Breathing hard and writhing, she clutched his head to her chest. After many minutes of the sweet torture, he turned to the other breast. Elizabeth scraped her nails on his back and scalp as he fervently kissed her. She longed for his hand to go lower.

Darcy tasted the heaven of Elizabeth's flesh. Her writhing beckoned him to lose entire control but he would not. They did not have the time, and he still wanted to maintain some sense of honor. He had planned the night before just what he wished to do. Shifting his body, she naturally opened her legs to him. The action tested his strength, and he had to clamp out the voice in his head telling him to take her in truth. Soon, he thought.

Instead, with his mouth still fervently sucking her nipple, his hand trailed lower. He longed for the day he would remove her gown entirely, for now he raised the hem that had bunched around her thighs. She bucked at the touch. Instead of touching the sensitive area she had shown him before, he inserted one finger directly into her. His body demanded penetration, and this was the only way he would allow. She gasped and stiffened, but he increased his other ministrations, nipping at the tight bud in his mouth. She soon relaxed, and Darcy felt her wetness flood his hand. He slid his finger in and out, stretching her muscles.

Elizabeth was surprised to feel such pleasure from Darcy's finger within her. When exploring her body, and knowing that was the location her husband's member would go, she had never felt enjoyment. As she began to wonder how it might feel to truly have his member- so much larger- there, he inserted another finger, and she felt her muscles stretch more. It burned just a little but soon dissipated. He stroked her fervently, exploring the sides and depths. His pace increased. He turned his wrist, so the pressure of his finger met with an unexplored region and she cried out as he pulled his finger back.

"Shh, love," he said before covering her mouth with his own.

While he resumed his speed and pinching her nipple in his free hand, Elizabeth's hips met his hands motion, craving more. Soon, she went over the edge.

When her body calmed, she looked into Darcy's eyes and saw amusement.

"You are laughing at me!" she accused.

"No, no," he said with a grin on his face. "Pleasing you gives me such joy. Your face, when you take your pleasure, is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

"Really?"

"Yes and I can't help but smile as I'm the one who brought you it."

She laughed. "Oh, feeling proud are you?"

"Infinitely."

"Smug!"

"Pleased." he returned.

"Arrogant!"

"Confident."

She stroked his engorged length and he moaned. "Oh, Lizzy." He leaned down to kiss her deeply but pushed her hands away when she attempted to fondle him. She finally pushed him away in annoyance.

"I love your touch, darling, but we must not."

"Why?" she cried in confusion.

"At this moment I am on the brink of temptation to take you entirely. The sun is rising, and soon the household will awake. Your sister is ill, and you did not get much sleep tonight. I cannot be so selfish."

Elizabeth finally sobered. "I should check on Jane. Do you really think she may need a physician?"

Darcy lowered himself to his side and pushed back a lock of Elizabeth's hair from her face. "My father died with no notice at all. My mother suddenly took ill when Georgiana was two. We were at Pemberley, and there was no physician near. The apothecary's elixirs did no good. By the time our London physician reached us, it was too late. He diagnosed her with an illness the apothecary had not considered, so he never thought to treat. The delay took her life."

"How terrible!" Elizabeth cried. She did not truly fear for Jane, who had a strong constitution. Instead, she considered how much tragedy befell her beloved so young.

"After that Father hired a physician to set up practice in a nearby town. Most of them dislike small market towns because there is so little chance for pay, so Father paid for the treatment of the whole neighborhood."

He did not have to add that he continued the practice, Elizabeth, understood.

"It did him no good, however, when he ceased breathing while riding over the fields one day."

"Oh no! Was he alone?"

"No, I was with him." Darcy closed his eyes against the pain. "I could do nothing."

Elizabeth pulled his head to her chest. "Were you close to him?"

"I had been..." he trailed off. He had been close to both his parents until George Wickham returned from his final year at school and endeared himself to his father. Darcy never understood how Wickham did it, or how his father had been so blind to the younger man's machinations and evil ways. His father increasingly paid George Wickham more attention and money than was due him as the steward's son. Darcy had spent the final four years of his father's life confused by his devotion to Wickham.

"I was close to my father too," Elizabeth said. "He always encouraged me to read. We spent hours in the library together. In the last few months, as his eyesight has nearly left him entirely, I have been forced to see more of his failures than I wished ever to know. I was pleased with his attention; my mother has no use for me and with four sisters there is the desire to belong somewhere. But now I see his inattention to our family and the estate for so many years, all in favor of his beloved books, has cost us greatly. Last night I was accused of being a great reader, and perhaps that is why I defended myself so. I do enjoy reading but am more adamant than ever that other pursuits must balance it."

They were silent for a moment, both feeling the weight of their confessions. The sadness of acknowledging the truth to another's ears was soon replaced by the realization that they found acceptance in each other's arms and hearts.

At last Darcy rose and kissed Elizabeth on the forehead. "I must go." She walked him to her door and embraced him before he left her room as the clock chimed six. Donning a robe, she checked on Jane, who still slept. She then returned to her bed, missing the warmth and presence of the gentleman who had so recently left it.

* * *

Jane appeared better upon waking, and Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest daughters arrived soon after breakfast. Darcy rolled his eyes as the mother insisted her daughter was too ill to move. He agreed she should remain at Netherfield, but it was obvious Mrs. Bennet only desired Jane to remain where Mr. Bingley was. Mrs. Bennet's prattle obviously discomfited Elizabeth, so Darcy made an effort to speak.

Mrs. Bennet had just mentioned that Jane had an admirer when she was but fifteen years old. He wrote poetry for her. The thought entered Darcy's mind that he ought to try his hand at wooing Elizabeth more.

"And so ended her affection. I wondered who first found the efficacy of poetry driving away love," Elizabeth said.

"I had been used to poetry being the food of love," he returned.

"Of a fine, stout love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already."

Oh, yes. He was certainly going to write her a few lines.

Miss Lydia requested Bingley hold a ball soon, and he readily agreed. Darcy acknowledged Elizabeth's younger sisters had their uses after all. Perhaps Bingley could be convinced to have a waltz, even.

Elizabeth sighed with relief when her mother finally left. She did not miss the looks of disgust from Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. They frequently looked at Darcy. She knew the ladies wished to demean her and her family and had no wish to defend herself. She came to take care of Jane and if she could not enjoy Darcy's pleasant company than she might as well seclude herself with her sister.

* * *

In Jane's room, Elizabeth threw herself into a chair and covered her face.

"Dearest Lizzy, whatever is wrong?" Jane asked.

Elizabeth let out an exasperated growl. "You should have seen how our family behaved before him- them, that is. Why must we come from the most improper and rude family in the Kingdom?"

"Goodness! I know we disagree about the nature of our family, but surely they cannot be the worst in the country."

"Mama called Mr. Darcy rude to his face! She claimed he never spoke and felt above his company. She said Sir William Lucas was his superior!"

Jane furrowed her brow. "I thought you did not like Mr. Darcy but now you defend him?" Elizabeth blushed, but Jane continued. "Sir William is a knight. Would that not make him above Mr. Darcy?"

"Mr. Darcy's uncle is an earl!"

"Oh." Jane looked at her hands before turning her face back to Elizabeth and smiling. "It seems you have spent a good deal of time with Mr. Darcy while I have been ill. I think you quite like him."

Elizabeth blushed deeply. "I do! I..." she did not finish and could scarce believe she nearly told another of her feelings. Surely, Darcy should know first.

Jane smiled again. "I understand. It is like how I feel for Mr. Bingley, isn't it? You find him the best of men."

Elizabeth blinked. Jane loved Mr. Bingley? She knew Jane liked him immensely but did not know that her sister had given way to her feelings. Did Mr. Bingley return them?

"Will you read a bit to me?" Jane asked, and Elizabeth obliged, happily putting aside her thoughts for the moment.

* * *

Well, we know Darcy has honorable intentions but he didn't quite say them to Elizabeth, did he? Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

They passed propriety long ago. Will Darcy propose?

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

That evening they did not play cards. Mr. Darcy was writing to his sister, and Miss Bingley attempted to help. The subject of penmanship came up.

"Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable!" Miss Bingley exclaimed. "So very opposite of you, Mr. Darcy," she purred near his ear.

"Perhaps his style reflects his character," Elizabeth said, hoping to draw Miss Bingley's attention away from Darcy.

"Oh, yes!" Bingley cried. "My thoughts are very rapid."

"It is like you said this morning to the ladies," Darcy observed. "You are easily persuaded to be happy anywhere and follow a friend anywhere."

"What is wrong with easily accepting a friend's suggestion? Does affection between friends mean nothing?"

Darcy looked at Elizabeth. "Affection between friends means everything so long as the person makes their own choice and is not simply following the other around like a lost puppy."

Elizabeth understood he meant for her to be certain of her own choices with him. She slowly dipped her head.

"Charles a puppy! Miss Eliza, did you know that Mr. Darcy could tease so well?"

Elizabeth smiled as she gazed at him. "It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one."

Bingley laughed. "Indeed, I enjoy seeing a lighter side to Darcy."

"Yes, your family is very fond of laughing, is it not?" Caroline smirked.

"Follies and whims do divert me," Elizabeth replied.

"Those are precisely what Mr. Darcy is without, though," Caroline insisted.

"I would hate to be the subject of someone whose first goal in life is a joke," he explained.

Elizabeth nodded her head as she walked closer to him. "I hope I never laugh at what is noble and just. I hope I never call good bad."

Darcy met her eyes and gave her a small smile.

"It would be impossible to call Mr. Darcy bad!" Caroline exclaimed. She would have continued, but Darcy interrupted.

"You give me too much credit. Each person has a potential for evil."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow. She did not expect him to say such a thing. "And what is yours, Mr. Darcy? Your pride or your vanity?"

"Vanity is a failing," he winked at her, believing she jested, "but pride can be controlled by an intelligent mind. No, I would say that I find it very hard to forgive those who have offended me." He glared at Caroline.

"So you hate everyone?"

"Only if you would say yours is to wilfully misunderstand." He enjoyed this exchange. It was like his previous conversation with Elizabeth. He could nearly feel her in his arms again.

She cocked her head at his words. They had already discussed this. Yes, she had willfully misunderstood him but did she now?

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is complete, is it not?"

Elizabeth met Darcy's eyes, hoping to understand his last words. "I find he is a man without fault."

Miss Bingley grew uncomfortable with the way they stared at one another and released Elizabeth's arm. "Louisa, let us have some music. You do not mind if I wake Hurst, do you?"

"Of course not!" Her sister dutifully cried.

"Miss Eliza, we must have you exhibit as well!" Caroline called over her shoulder as she hastened to the pianoforte.

"Very well," she said with resignation and made her way to peruse the music books. Darcy's eyes were often on her. First Miss Bingley sang an Italian love song and Elizabeth blushed as she thought of Darcy holding her as the hero of the song did. Then Caroline varied the charm and played a fast Scottish tune.

"Do you not feel a very great inclination to dance?" Darcy whispered in her ear, causing Elizabeth to shudder.

"I did not think you liked dancing, Mr. Darcy," she replied without turning. His nearness built an incredible heat in her.

"I long for certain activities when I find the correct partner," he replied.

Elizabeth shook her head, commanding her body to calm. "No, sir, I cannot dance with you here. I would expose myself."

"No?" She shook her head.

"I cannot accept such a formal refusal."

"No, Fitzwilliam, I cannot dance with you."

He allowed the sound of her voice saying his name to fill a void in his heart. He longed to make her cry his name out in passion again. "Would it be so terrible for them to know?" he asked quietly.

"There is nothing public between us. I do not want it said that I came to Netherfield just to entrap you."

Darcy smiled at the thought. "I think I might like being the recipient of your arts," he said lowly.

"Please, Fitzwilliam," she whispered harshly. She saw Caroline looking at them closely. "You should call on my father when I return home."

"And say what, Elizabeth?" He intended to ask for her hand, but now she sounded as if she would want only a courtship.

Before she could reply Miss Bingley called her to the pianoforte. Elizabeth left Darcy's side with confusion growing in her heart. How could he be confused as what to say to her father? They must have a public courtship before an engagement. They spoke no more that evening and like the one before, Elizabeth fell asleep wondering if he would come to her.

Like the night before, she did not awake when he entered her chamber. In the morning, Elizabeth woke him with gentle kisses on his face.

"You look so beautiful in the morning!" she said.

"No, you are the beautiful one."

Their passions soon rose like their previous encounters. This time Darcy allowed Elizabeth to touch him for it was earlier in the morning. After spending into a handkerchief and tossing it in the fire, he nestled Elizabeth close under his chin.

She suppressed a yawn and asked him to tell her about his sister. "She sounds a little like my middle sister, Mary. Well, Mary enjoys the spotlight more than it sounds Miss Darcy does. Does she have any friends her age?" Hearing that she did not, Elizabeth frowned.

"You will have to meet her. She is only a few years your junior."

"Yes, she is my sister Lydia's age, from what Miss Bingley said."

"Georgiana could use an older sister," he said before kissing her deeply. They heard the hall clock chime and Darcy moaned. "I must leave."

Elizabeth slowly nodded her head and accompanied him to the door like the morning before. Neither one of them wanted to think about the time when she would leave Netherfield.

Later that morning, while Elizabeth was upstairs with Jane, Miss Bingley began abusing the Bennets. "Mrs. Bennet is without a doubt the most vulgar woman I have ever met!" Miss Bingley exclaimed as soon as Elizabeth left the room.

"She is very amiable if excitable," Bingley reasoned.

"Be serious, Charles. She intends to make you son-in-law. Do not be surprised if her daughter knows just how to trap you."

"Miss Bennet is far too kind for that!" Bingley cried in clear outrage.

"I believe the art of entrapping a man for a husband is a more fashionable pursuit, Miss Bingley." Darcy could tolerate her behavior no longer and stood to leave.

"You should be careful of Miss Eliza too, Mr. Darcy," she said.

Bingley scoffed. "Do you think every bachelor to be in danger from every single lady he meets or shares a house with for a few days?"

Mr. Hurst laughed. "I imagine Caroline's feathers are rumpled because Darcy here can't take his eyes off, Miss Elizabeth."

Darcy tensed. He had not thought others perceived his affection.

"Oh yes, I know what attracts Mr. Darcy. All men are weak to such arts."

Incensed, Darcy strode over to Miss Bingley and blatantly perused her body. "You have found me out," he said bitterly. "She attracts me as no other lady has. I have never seen another with such irresistible," he paused and looked down her body again before meeting her eyes, "eyes." He turned from her side, strode to the door and left without a backwards glance.

* * *

For Elizabeth, the morning passed similarly to the one before. She seldom left Jane's room until dinner time. Then she went upstairs to gather Jane, who felt well enough to come downstairs. Mr. Bingley immediately situated her next to the fire, and it made Elizabeth smile. She glanced at Darcy, but he seemed engrossed in his book. Miss Bingley repeatedly leaned forward and brushed her breasts against his arm while asking questions about her book, the second volume of his. Occasionally, she would meet Elizabeth's eyes and smirk. At length, Elizabeth gripped the needle in her hand so hard she thought it might break. Unexpectedly, Miss Bingley requested Elizabeth walk around the room with her.

"Might you join us, Mr. Darcy? You have two strong arms for us to lean on," she said with a smile Elizabeth felt was far too seductive. Elizabeth noticed he had closed his book to watch them.

"I could only be in your way," he coolly replied.

"What can you mean?" Miss Bingley insisted on knowing.

"You either have secret affairs to discuss or realize your figures appear to the greatest advantage as you walk. If the first I would be in the way and if the second, I can admire you much easier from the position here by the fire." He raised his eyebrows and looked at Elizabeth. She blushed, but he hoped they would walk closer. Memories of the outline of her figure in the sunlight the other day danced across his memory.

"What a shocking reply!" Caroline said although Elizabeth easily saw she was infinitely pleased with the praise. She attempted to not feel inferior to the elegant lady next to her. Their figures, countenances, and entire personalities were vastly different. How could Darcy truly prefer her? And if he did, why did Miss Bingley act as though she knew a secret?

Darcy only smirked, and Caroline soon gave up on gaining his attention. He seemed to take her previous words to heart and did not approach her for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Elizabeth still slept when Darcy entered her room. Like had the night before, he slipped under the counterpane and held her close to his chest. He was accustomed to the desire she awoke in him but now that was here at Netherfield, more feelings emerged. He missed her company during the day when she would tend to her sister. He thought about their future. Husbands and wives generally had their own tasks in the morning and did not come together again until dinner. Darcy did not know if he could bear going without Elizabeth for so many hours every day once they were finally united. Pemberley had a study for the mistress, but he thought to move a desk into his for her to work at. He would always welcome her presence. Elizabeth knew when he desired quiet. She might read or embroider while he worked.

He smiled at the image now in his head. Georgiana would finally have an appropriate female role model. Then, at night, after they gave themselves to their passions, he would hold her close each night. Just like this, he thought.

He awoke hours later to the sound of her moaning as his lips kissed her neck. In his sleep, he had already initiated love making.

"Mmmm, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said huskily.

His hand, which held her breast, began to knead the soft flesh. His mind sharpened as he considered what he most wanted to do.

"Sit up," he whispered in her ear.

She silently obeyed, and he reached the table at the side of the bed to light a candle. He needed to see her. Moving back to Elizabeth, he untied the drawstring of her nightgown's neckline. Hooking his finger underneath one edge he drew the sleeve down her arm exposing one pert breast. He continued on the other side.

Elizabeth's skin covered in goose bumps at Darcy's provocative touch. Of all the intimacies they had already shared, Darcy undressing her was the most intense. She blushed under his gaze.

Finally tearing his eyes away from the magnificent vision of her breasts, Darcy met Elizabeth's eyes. "You are exquisite."

Slowly and reverently he extended his hand to touch one piece of supple flesh before bestowing tender kisses. Then he returned the treatment to the other breast.

Elizabeth's head fell backwards at Darcy's ministrations. How could his touch always undo her? At one encounter, it was hard and full of need. At another soft and adoring. She smiled at the thought that she would be the happiest woman in the world to have such a man love her all of her days.

Darcy's kisses wandered to Elizabeth's shoulders and up her neck and face. He suckled her ear and delighted as Elizabeth reached out and clung to him. She whimpered, and he knew what she desired, but would not give it to her yet. Finally, he kissed her mouth. She returned the kiss fervently. She had allowed his exploration without reciprocation, which did not surprise him. As he returned to familiar touches, she showed her passion.

"Lizzy," he said breathlessly, "will you take the gown entirely off?"

Elizabeth's eyes flew open. She had never expected such a request. Her understanding of conjugal relations was mostly that the man would raise her gown and soon finish with little pleasure to the woman. As they had already shared so much more than that, Elizabeth decided it was only reasonable to fulfil his request.

She was nervous, afraid even. She felt anxious for his approval and concern over how far they would go this night. Layers of clothes had prevented nothing before. Surely, the removal of them entirely would mean consummation. As she stood and shimmied the fabric down her hips, she welcomed the thought.

Darcy stood to join her. It was then that she noticed he wore only a thin night shirt. She espied his robe dropped over the same chair as hers. He eyed her hungrily.

"So beautiful…so soft…exquisite," he said as he lightly trailed a hand down her back and bottom. He kissed the back of her shoulder and pushed her hair to one side as he kissed her back, making Elizabeth's knees go weak.

Standing behind her, he held her close, and she could feel his arousal against her. His arms wrapped around her waist, one travelled low to her curls, and the other up to a breast as he bent his head to kiss her throat. He moved them in a slow rotation. His shaft rubbing friction against her bottom. She reached an arm up to tangle her hands in his hair and arched her neck more.

Allowing his lips to leave her neck he turned her to face him once more. His hands gently touched down her arms, then from her shoulder, grazing a breast, past her waist and to her hips. They had continued that course several more times before he grabbed her bottom, pulled her close and squeezed.

Elizabeth jumped and giggled, causing Darcy to smile.

"I have wanted these in my hands since I first saw you walk away from me at the Assembly."

Elizabeth smiled. "Are you a rake, sir? Just when I was beginning to think of you as the best of gentlemen."

Dropping his head to kiss her shoulders down to the tops of her breast, he said between kisses, "Your first assessment was quite correct. I am no gentleman when it comes to you."

Her hands squeezed his shoulders in response to his touch, but she needed clarification. "If this is ungentlemanly behaviour, what do you with your other ladies then? Address them as madam?"

He ceased his ministrations. One hand reached up to cup her face, and the other brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. "There are and never have been any other ladies, Elizabeth. What we share is far beyond anything I have felt or desired before."

He leaned in for a tender kiss, but it soon turned passionate as Elizabeth desired to show her gratitude for being chosen by him. He pulled her as tight to him as he could manage without causing injury and still, it was not enough. He needed to show her his devotion. Scooping her into his arms, he brought her back to the bed.

"Beautiful, perfect, mine," he said between kisses as he trailed down her body.

Elizabeth's breath grew uneven, and she thought she would burst just from his kisses. As he neared her mound, she stiffened, and he continued down her legs. Then he rolled her onto her stomach and gave the treatment to her backside. After several minutes of lavishing his love there, he asked her to turn again. Starting with her lips, he began his descent again. This time when he reached her apex, he alternated between gentle touches and kisses.

"With my body, I thee worship," he said and Elizabeth recognized he was making a pledge to her.

"Beautiful, perfect," he said again and this time Elizabeth finished the words for him. "Yours," she said.

"Mine," he growled out as she parted her legs and Darcy teased a finger inside.

She was so close from his earlier touches and kisses; it only took a few strokes for the warm liquid to gush inside of her. Then, she felt Darcy's tongue lapping at her. Stroking her inside, he plunged as deep as he could. Flicking it over her pearl, made her lose all restraint. One, two, three more times and the pleasure ripped through her. She cried out, so loud Darcy covered her mouth with his hand. She lay limp and heaving, warring with herself to ask him to do that once more and wondering if she could survive having another moment of such intense pleasure.

Darcy pulled back from Elizabeth. Her fluid drenched his face, her scent covered him, and he had never been more aroused before. A deep, animal need to rip his night shirt off and plunge into her core filled him. As he began to lift the shirt, Elizabeth sleepily smiled and murmured, "I love you, Fitzwilliam." She then instantly fell asleep, and although Darcy's body needed attention, he would not disturb her slumber again. The pride he felt at her declaration replaced his need to claim her.

He smoothed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "I love you, darling."

Believing he might ravish her in her sleep, he attempted to put her gown on her as best he could before retrieving his robe and snuffing the light. If he stayed in her chambers this night, there would be nothing to do in the morning but go to Longbourn and confess everything. Elizabeth deserved more than that. Instead, he returned to his room. He had allowed himself memories of Elizabeth's pleasure at his touch and kisses before he sought his own release and oblivion in sleep.

* * *

Well, Elizabeth seems to think they're promised to one another and Darcy has said he loves her-even if she didn't hear him. But is he willing to marry her? Thanks for reading!


End file.
